


Glad It's You

by ominousunflower



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette April, Adrinette April 2020, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ominousunflower/pseuds/ominousunflower
Summary: After fighting four late-night akumas in a row, the heroes of Paris are desperately in need of a nap.“We’re a great team,” Adrien says. “No amount of sleepiness can make us lose.”“Well,” Marinette says, a smirk tugging at her lips, “that may be true, but—eek!”She stumbles and pitches forward, and Adrien wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him before she can tumble down the stairs.“Careful, buguinette,” he says. “Falling down the stairs might be quicker, but I imagine it’s a lot more painful, too.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 38
Kudos: 479





	Glad It's You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 27 (Naps) of Adri(e)nette April! Post-reveal, pre-relationship fluff. I hope y'all enjoy 😊

With ten minutes of class left, the sound of a book slamming against the desk startles Adrien awake.

“Sorry, Mademoiselle Bustier!” Nino says, as the entire class turns to him. “I, uh, was testing the acoustics in here.”

A vague frown flits across Mademoiselle Bustier’s face. “Please test the acoustics outside of class time, Nino. Now, as I was saying, several of the themes in Shakespeare’s plays recur in popular works today…”

Adrien yawns and slumps back in his seat, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Dude,” Nino hisses. “I’m running out of ways to keep you awake.”

He has a point. In the past fifteen minutes, Nino has dropped his book, kicked Adrien’s leg, faked a coughing fit, hit the desk to “kill” a bug, and yelled, _Wow, look at that fat pigeon outside!_ And none of it has kept Adrien awake for more than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” Adrien mumbles. His jaw stretches in another yawn. “I was up late doing homework last night.”

“Are you in extra secret classes I don’t know about?” Nino whispers. “Because I’m pretty sure you have just as much homework as the rest of us.”

“Modeling,” Adrien says with a shrug, which is his go-to excuse whenever _I was up all night fighting akumas and sentimonstres_ won’t do.

A few seconds of silence pass, during which Adrien nearly nods off again. Then a loud shriek from behind him sends a jolt through his veins, and he jumps to his feet, scanning the room for danger.

“Alya,” Mademoiselle Bustier says, her voice edged with exasperation. “Are you alright?”

That was _Alya?_ Adrien hadn’t even recognized her voice. He’s not sure he’s ever heard her make a sound like that.

“I thought I saw a spider,” Alya says.

“Don’t you _like_ spiders?” Alix asks.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be startled by one!” Alya says. “Sorry, Mademoiselle Bustier. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Sighing, Adrien lowers himself into his seat, his heart still pounding from adrenaline.

Nino snorts. “Looks like Marinette is having trouble staying awake, too.”

Adrien twists in his seat to look at Marinette—his confidante, his partner, and, of course, the secret love of his life. (Or maybe not-so-secret, considering he’s confessed his love on multiple occasions.) Their eyes meet, and Marinette gives him a bleary-eyed smile that crinkles the shadows under her eyes.

“You too?” he whispers.

She nods. “No amount of caffeine can save me.”

“Oh? So the sight of my stunning face doesn’t get your blood pumping?”

Marinette rolls her eyes, and just that simple action makes Adrien’s heart skip a beat. He’d thought it would take years for him and Marinette to have this sort of casual camaraderie—and then, to his delight, he’d discovered that she was Ladybug, and Marinette had discovered that he was Chat Noir.

After the inevitable week-or-so of awkwardness—during which Marinette compulsively made cat puns every time she saw him, and Adrien tripped over his feet every time he saw her—they’d settled into a comfortable rhythm, and now, it’s as if they’ve been best friends since birth.

“Please pay attention, you four,” Mademoiselle Bustier says. Adrien reluctantly tears his eyes away from Marinette and turns back around. “I’d rather not rearrange the seating chart, but I will separate you four if I have to.”

They all blurt out assorted apologies, and with a nod, Mademoiselle Bustier continues with the lesson.

Somehow, despite the fog in his brain, Adrien makes it to the end of class without falling asleep again. As soon as the bell rings and everyone begins gathering their things, though, he folds his arms and buries his face in them.

Behind Adrien, Alya says, “Marinette! You awake? Are you getting lunch with me and Nino?”

“I—” Marinette breaks off, audibly yawning. “I think I’ll go home for lunch so that I can take a nap.”

“Good plan,” Alya says. “You look exhausted.”

“Probably because I am?”

“Listen,” Alya says, “I’m all for productivity. But maybe you should take on a little less work? You’re barely getting any sleep with all these commissions.”

Ah, if only it was a question of _taking on less work._ Adrien is sure that Marinette, like him, would love to be fighting fewer akumas. Unfortunately, Le Papillon’s supervillain agenda doesn’t seem to take their sleep schedules into account.

Adrien wonders when Le Papillon even sleeps, since he seems to send akumas at every possible time. Do he and Mayura take shifts using the Butterfly Miraculous? Is he an insomniac? Or does he just set an alarm on his phone before he goes to bed? _Siri, set an alarm to “send akuma, muahaha” at 02:48, please._

“What about you, dude?” Nino asks. He nudges Adrien’s arm. “You going home for lunch?”

“Mm.” Adrien slowly lifts his head and glances in Nino’s general direction. “Yeah, I don’t really have a choice. But maybe I can get a nap in, too.”

“You two go ahead!” Marinette says. “I’ll wait for Adrien.”

Alya and Nino say their goodbyes, and then Adrien and Marinette are sitting alone in the classroom.

“Come on,” Marinette says, patting Adrien’s shoulder. “The sooner we go home and eat, the sooner we can sleep.”

“Screw these attacks,” Adrien says in response. He gets to his feet and nearly topples over, his head swimming with sleepiness. Marinette’s hand on his arm steadies him, and he turns toward her and lets his forehead fall against her shoulder. “I’m sick of this,” Adrien mumbles against Marinette’s shirt. “I mean, it’s been, what? Five nights in a row with akumas _and_ sentimonstres? Or has it been six?”

“Only four, actually,” Marinette says. She pats his back. “He’ll slow down eventually, minou. We just have to push through.”

“Ugh.” Adrien slumps against Marinette, reveling in how soft and warm she feels. “I think I could nap right here.”

“Not an option,” Marinette pokes his cheek. “Let’s go. We’re wasting precious naptime by standing here.”

Grumbling to himself, Adrien shoves his books and papers into his bag—not caring that his homework sheet gets crumpled and ripped in the process—then slings the bag over his shoulder and follows Marinette out of the classroom.

Their arms brush as they walk, a habit formed from being Ladybug and Chat Noir for so long. The two are used to casual touches, to staying close so that they don’t get separated, and those habits have carried over into their civilian lives. Of course, Adrien’s not complaining, even if Marinette’s gentle touch sometimes makes his face flush bright red.

Really, how is it possible that she’s Ladybug? It makes perfect sense, and yet, he hadn’t thought that Marinette Dupain-Cheng could get any more amazing. Occasionally, he still has trouble wrapping his head around the concept.

“Hey,” Adrien says, bumping his shoulder against Marinette’s as they start down the stairs. “We’re a pretty great team, huh?”

Marinette laughs. “You’re always saying random things like that.”

“It’s not _random,”_ Adrien says with a blush—though really, given how tired his brain is, he’s not sure he’s able to hold a coherent conversation. “We’re a great team, so no amount of sleepiness can make us lose.”

“Well,” Marinette says, a smirk tugging at her lips, “that may be true, but—eek!”

She stumbles and pitches forward, and Adrien wraps his arms around her, pulling her against him before she can tumble down the stairs.

“Careful, buguinette,” he says, leaning close until their noses are almost touching. To his delight, she doesn’t pull away. “Falling down the stairs might be quicker, but I imagine it’s a lot more painful, too.”

“I—uh.” Marinette blinks her bright eyes, the ones that make Adrien fall more in love every time they look at him. “Nice reflexes.”

“Thanks. I try.”

She jabs a finger against his chest. “But you could have caught me without hugging me, you touchy-feely tomcat.”

“Well,” Adrien says. He fumbles for a response, which is hard when he’s exhausted and holding onto the girl he loves. “We’re standing on an _es-câlin-er,_ aren’t we?”

“You’re awful,” Marinette says, wriggling away from him. Adrien grudgingly lets go of her, since she seems to have regained her balance. “That pun wasn’t even endearingly bad. It was just bad.”

“Rude,” Adrien says. Marinette begins to descend the stairs again, and he instinctively grabs her hand in case she trips a second time. “Do you know how hard it is to pun on one hour of sleep? I’m doing my best.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Marinette teases.

Adrien smirks. “For you, my lady, the sacrifice is worth it.”

Marinette just snorts and rolls her eyes again.

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Adrien releases Marinette’s hand. Her fingers stubbornly cling to his for a moment, though he supposes it’s just her slow reaction time.

“Um, so,” he says, as they cross the courtyard. “I guess you don’t want to get lunch together today? Since we’re both trying to catch up on sleep?”

That’s another new development, since they learned each other’s identities: spending their lunch breaks together. Although Adrien’s father doesn’t let him eat lunch at school, he doesn’t care whether Adrien eats lunch in the dining room or his bedroom. Lately, then, Adrien has been taking his food upstairs, and Marinette has been sneaking into his bedroom as Ladybug. It’s a thousand times better than sitting alone at the end of a big empty table, and Adrien cherishes any chance he has to spend more time with Marinette.

“I can still come by!” Marinette says. “I’ll just leave a little early so that I have time to go home and sleep.”

 _You could sleep in my room,_ Adrien thinks, but he decides to keep that suggestion to himself. “Sounds good,” he says instead. “I’ll text you once my food is brought up.”

They go their separate ways once they reach the sidewalk, and Adrien slowly climbs into his car. Somehow, he almost falls asleep on the brief ride to his house, but when the car stops, he rallies just enough to drag himself inside the mansion.

Nathalie meets him at the door. “Are you eating in your room today?”

“Yeah,” Adrien says, yawning. “Have the cook send the food upstairs, please.”

The moment he sets foot in his room, he pivots toward his bed and trudges toward it, kicking off his shoes as he does.

Energetic as ever, Plagg phases through Adrien’s bag and circles his head, making him slightly dizzy. Although Adrien isn’t the biggest fan of camembert, he envies Plagg for being able to recharge just from eating the stuff.

“Ah, the good life,” Plagg says. “Slacking off in the middle of the day, sneaking your lady love into your room for a surreptitious date—”

“It’s not a date,” Adrien mumbles. “It’s just lunch.”

“Yes, and that’s entirely beyond me,” Plagg says. “You’re in love with her, and she’s clearly in love with you, so it only seems _natural_ that—”

“Sleep,” Adrien says, as he throws himself onto his mattress. “Too tired for romance. Naptime.”

“Well, that’s a first,” Plagg says, his voice receding as he flies off toward a bowl of snacks on the coffee table. “Not that I’m complaining. You’re unbearable when you go on and on about your bug.”

A minute later, there’s a quiet knock on the door.

“Come in,” Adrien says, his words muffled by his pillow.

The door opens, and footsteps pad over to the nightstand by his bed. Adrien hears the sound of a tray being set down, and then the footsteps retreat just as quickly as they arrived.

“Thank you,” Adrien mumbles, and the door clicks shut.

His mind floats toward dreamland, vague shapes moving behind his eyelids, snippets of sound swirling in his head as he slips into sleep. His body feels heavy, sinking all too happily into the mattress as he finally gets the rest he needs.

“Adrien?” a quiet voice asks.

Adrien curls up, his fingers digging into the blanket. “Mm.”

“Oh!” the voice says. It kind of sounds like Marinette. Or Ladybug…Maribug. Ladynette? Whichever. He loves all of them. “You’re sleeping. I guess that explains why you didn’t text me! Um, I brought my lunch, but I can just take it home and let you nap.”

“Wait,” Adrien murmurs. He flails an arm out, blindly reaching toward the voice. “Sleep.”

“Yes, I’ll let you sleep! That’s what I said.”

“No.” Adrien summons every ounce of strength in his body to turn his head, peering up at the girl standing next to his bed. Maribug is transformed right now, wearing her red and black suit with a yo-yo strapped to her waist. “Detransform and sleep.” Eyes fluttering shut, he pats the mattress next to him.

“Oh. B-but—but that’s your bed. And you’re in it.”

Adrien whines and lifts his arm again, beckoning Ladynette toward him.

“I guess I can sit here until you wake up,” she says. “That won’t hurt, right? Right.”

Adrien hopes she’s talking to herself, because he’s too tired to respond. The mattress dips as she sits next to him, and Adrien immediately snuggles closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. His fingers dig into loose cloth, like a shirt, and he realizes that she must have detransformed without him hearing.

He cracks his eyes open just long enough to look up at her face. Marinette squeaks, staring down at him with wide eyes. Smiling, Adrien closes his eyes and presses his face to her side.

Fingers stroke his hair, scratching the spot where his cat ears would be if he was transformed. Adrien feels a familiar warmth bloom in his chest, the kind that would become a purr if he was Chat Noir right now.

“Lie down,” Adrien murmurs, his words barely coherent. “You need sleep.”

He hears Marinette yawn above him. “Well…it would be a waste to go home, now that I’m here. Maybe just a few minutes.”

The mattress dips again, and Marinette shifts beneath Adrien’s arm, sliding down the mattress until his arm is draped across her waist. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that she’s stretched out alongside him—he can feel it, the same way he senses her movements during battle without looking.

For a minute, Adrien hovers on the edge of sleep, acutely aware of the space between their bodies. Heat-seeking, touch-starved, he’d love to close it; but the first move is Marinette’s to make, not his. She already knows where he stands.

Then, just before he drifts off, the space disappears. Marinette’s arm wraps around his waist, pulling them closer together, and she presses her cheek to his chest.

And suddenly, Adrien is very, very awake.

He holds his breath, afraid that this is a mistake—afraid that she’ll change her mind or retreat at the slightest touch. Her face is warm against his chest, her fingers idly toying with the hem of his shirt, and Adrien can sense each breath she takes, can hear the occasional sigh accompanying her exhales.

Even though he’s frozen in fear, he’s pretty sure he’s in heaven.

“Relax,” Marinette mutters. “You’re too tense.”

Adrien’s breath gusts from his lungs in a laugh, and he tightens his arm around Marinette’s waist, tugging her closer. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says.

“I’m _very_ comfortable,” she says. “This mattress is way nicer than mine.”

Adrien hums. “Well, my window’s always open, you know.”

Marinette snorts and nuzzles against him. “It sounds like you’re propositioning me.”

“You know I’m innocent.” Adrien hesitantly moves his hand to Marinette’s back. “Is this okay?”

“Mm hm.” A moment later, Marinette’s foot brushes against one of Adrien’s calves, her leg settling over his. “Is _this_ okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Adrien rests his chin against the top of Marinette’s head. Every point of contact he makes between them, he feels like he’s stepping off the edge of a cliff, falling into a ravine that could either hold spikes or a trampoline at the bottom. “You know, I wish we had more moments like this.”

“Hugging?”

“Resting,” Adrien says. He sighs. “I know I said we’re unstoppable, and we are…”

“But?”

“I’m tired,” Adrien whispers. “Marinette, I’m _exhausted._ And so are you. I don’t know how we’re going to keep this up.”

Marinette is silent for a long moment. “We have to,” she finally says.

“Yeah,” Adrien says. He runs his hand up and down Marinette’s back, then reaches up to play with one of her pigtails. “I guess we do.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she says, and her words are less clear this time, garbled by sleepiness.

“Like we always do,” Adrien says, allowing himself a small smile.

“That’s right. You and me, against the—” Marinette breaks off in a yawn. “Against the world.”

Hearing his words from her mouth—words he wasn’t even sure she remembered—Adrien feels his cheeks heat with a blush. Grateful that she can’t see his face, he presses his lips to the top of her head in a featherlight kiss.

Marinette moves, and Adrien’s afraid she’s about to scold him. Instead, though, she tilts her head back and presses her lips to his jaw, a soft kiss that doesn’t quite reach his cheek.

Adrien’s face burns hotter, and he buries his face in her hair to hide his blush.

Marinette giggles, her body shaking against his. “You blush easily.”

“I don’t,” Adrien mutters.

“It’s cute.”

“Oh.” Adrien swallows nervously. “Um, so maybe I blush a little.”

Marinette laughs again. When she doesn’t say anything else right away, Adrien thinks maybe she’s fallen asleep—but then she murmurs, “I’m glad it’s you.”

Adrien frowns. Does she mean that she’s glad it’s _him_ she’s cuddling with? Or something else?

“I know we’ve known each other’s identities for a while,” Marinette says, “but—I don’t know if I ever said that. I’m glad you’re my partner, Adrien.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathes. He tentatively moves his hand to cup the back of Marinette’s neck, his thumb stroking the spot behind her ear. Marinette’s words have his heart racing, almost enough to overcome the exhaustion seeping through his bones. “You’re not usually this forthcoming, buguinette.”

“I’m too tired to be embarrassed,” she says. “But I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Mm.” Adrien resists the urge to kiss her head again. “I’m glad it’s you, too, you know.”

“That’s nice,” Marinette mumbles, and Adrien laughs. He can tell she’s drifting off now, her words barely enunciated, her body going lax in his arms.

And having her so close—having her arms wrapped around him, and his around her—he’s never felt safer. He’s never been more certain that they fit together perfectly. And somehow, he’s never been more in love with her.

Smiling, Adrien closes his eyes and lets himself drift away with the girl in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If anyone's interested, you can read my other Adri(e)nette April pieces [here (charm bracelets)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23579050) and [here (rejected heroes)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689276).


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